I slept until noon and woke up with a heavy head. For a while, I struggled to remember where I was and what had happened the day before. After splashing my face with cold water, I trudged to the kitchen to make myself breakfast as my body demanded food after all the energy I'd spent on healing Kiron. The meal was intensely rich in flavor, and soon I began to feel better, my mind clearing.
I didn't receive newspapers, since no one had lived in the house for some time or paid for their delivery, but I was curious to find out whether the authorities had identified the bomber and maybe uncovered his motives. I even considered snatching a paper from the neighbors if one happened to be conveniently left in the mailbox, though, of course, I would have refrained from committing such a brazen crime. Instead, I set about sorting through paperwork to prepare everything required for the notary.
Dad's study was always in disarray. Unlike my mom, he had little zeal for keeping things in their proper places. Pages from scientific papers mingled seamlessly with sketches of mechanisms, and books lay in stacks everywhere the eye could land from the armchair and the floor to the windowsill and the shelves, and basically any other horizontal surface available. I assumed the documents must be stored somewhere designated for them, like a desk drawer or a safe. The desk itself was a separate work of avant-garde art: to find anything there, one first had to dig through mountains of accumulated clutter from years past.
I began my search with the wall safe. Inside, I found the property deed for the house, which was already a decent start. After another half-hour of sorting through papers in the drawers, I located all the remaining documents required for the inheritance transfer. Having gotten off lightly, I left Father's workspace. I wasn't ready to tidy it up just yet.
Next on my to-do list was a visit to the jeweler. I had already changed and was putting on my jacket when I spotted Olivia and Kiron approaching my door through the window. The visit was unexpected. Olivia rarely dropped by her friends' homes, since she much preferred inviting people over. As for Kiron, he stirred unease in me, especially after yesterday's events. I sighed and went out to meet them, hoping they wouldn't insist on coming inside and would simply walk with me instead.
"Anna, good morning!" Olivia hurried toward me cheerfully. "Though it's practically afternoon by now."
"Good day," I forced a smile at Olivia and gave Kiron a nod. "Officer."
"Miss Demare," Kiron returned with a slight bow.
"Are you heading somewhere?"
I was about to reply that it was rather obvious, given I'd already stepped outside, but caught myself just in time, as such an answer would have sounded far too curt. Noticing the basket of treats in Olivia's hands, I realized with a sinking feeling that I'd have to invite them inside after all.
"Yes, there are a few things I hoped to get done today," I paused, then added, "but they can wait a little longer. Would you like to come in?"
"That's exactly what we were counting on," Olivia chirped, lifting the basket and giving me a playful wink as she squeezed through the open door. Officer Kiron let us pass and entered last.
I led the guests to the kitchen.
"Apologies for the mess, I haven't mustered the energy to clean. Make yourselves comfortable. I'll put on some tea."
Olivia and Kiron settled at the dining table.
"Officer Kiron, how are you feeling?"
"Quite well, thank you. Your healing skills are exceptional. I was fortunate you were nearby when the explosion happened."
I shot Olivia an uneasy glance. I hadn't yet had the chance to speak with her privately and to explain myself. I had no idea what she truly thought about yesterday's events, or how much she'd revealed to her fiancé.
"I'm endlessly grateful to you," she breathed, her voice trembling as her gaze shifted from Kiron to me.
I stepped over to the stove and filled the kettle with water. After rummaging through the drawers and failing to find matches, I decided to use my abilities instead. Positioning myself so my hands were hidden from view, I conjured a fiery circle to ignite the flame. A spark leapt from my fingertips to the stove, and a small fire flickered to life beneath the kettle.
"Have they identified the bomber and his motives yet?"
"Another heretic," Kiron replied. "These incidents have been happening more frequently lately. We suspect the rebels are preparing for larger-scale attacks, which is why we're increasing patrols."
"Sounds like the city isn't very safe these days. Olivia, why don't you come stay with me in my forest hideout?"
"And do what? Feed mosquitoes and dress up for raccoons? No thanks."
"The raccoons would appreciate it," I sighed and shrugged. "Well, I tried. I'll let them know all costume parties are canceled."
"And why don't you wish to remain in the city?" Kiron inquired.
"I don't like people. I prefer wild raccoons and mosquitoes," I answered flatly.
Olivia burst into laughter again, and I smiled. Kiron even allowed himself the ghost of a smile.
I set the table, unpacking the basket of treats while casually questioning Kiron about his work. Most of what I wanted to know, of course, turned out to be classified and not meant for civilian ears, so the conversation quickly fizzled out. Olivia took it upon herself to keep things lively, cheerfully launching into the latest local gossip.
Soon, the water boiled, and I began pouring the tea. The pungent aroma of herbs filled the kitchen. Memories of my mother washed over me again, my chest tightened, and a wave of emotion with yesterday's exhaustion made my head spin. Trying to steady myself, I reached for the table but missed, my hand instead landing on the stove and knocking over the kettle, still bubbling with boiling water. The scalding liquid splashed across my left arm and leg.
"Damn it!" I hissed, frantically pulling off my steaming sweater.
Olivia rushed to my side.
"Are you okay?"
"Just dizzy," I muttered, inspecting my arm where the skin already flushed red. My leg burned even worse. "I'll be back in a second."
Without the sweater, the absence of my power stone was glaringly obvious.
"That's one fairly severe burn. Allow me to help," Kiron offered, his gaze impassive as it rested on my injured arm.
"No need," I said, squeezing past Olivia and Kiron before heading to my bedroom. "Don't wait for me. Go ahead and have the tea."
Once in the room, I peeled off my pants to assess the damage. Had I not been a healer myself, a hospital visit would've been necessary, as blisters were already forming on my thigh. I quickly treated the burns with my power and changed into a long-sleeved dress, then rummaged through mom's jewelry boxes. I was searching for any piece that might pass for a power stone under casual inspection, but found nothing suitable. My mom used to keep decoys for emergencies, just some fake stones to avoid suspicion if the real one was lost, but none remained.
When I returned to my guests, Olivia had already cleaned up the mess. She and Kiron were sitting at the table, speaking quietly. I thanked them for their help and joined in.
"Everything alright?" Olivia asked.
"Everything's under control," I brushed it off.
"Perhaps you should still see a healer. You expended considerable energy yesterday," Kiron remarked courteously.
"Thank you for your concern," I replied with a polite smile. "If a good rest doesn't do the trick, next time I'll be sure to faint right on the hospital's doorstep."
"Preferably inside."
"Try the pie," Olivia said, sliding a plate with a beautifully decorated and fragrant fruit tart toward me. I bet it had been baked specially to her order.
I took a slice. The pie was remarkably tender and juicy, a testament to the baker's skill. I could practically feel my energy returning as I savored each expertly crafted bite.
Olivia steered the conversation back to lighter topics. We discussed recent literary releases, some scientific breakthroughs and inventions, but as the visit drew to a close, the discussion turned political, and the mood cooled considerably.
"I've heard etheric creatures are appearing more frequently in the wilderness," Olivia said, lowering her voice as if someone might overhear. "And not just the human-like ones, but animal forms too."
"Darling, you shouldn't believe every rumor you hear," Kiron interjected sternly, "let alone spread unverified information."
"I don't think it's nonsense!" Olivia retorted petulantly.
"Does the Inquisition have any theories about the origin of these etheric creatures?" I decided to press the topic. "I think studying their anatomical peculiarities could be fascinating."
"To our knowledge, they manifest due to natural anomalies," Officer Kiron replied tersely.
"And in all this time, no one's managed to determine the cause of these anomalies?"
"Miss Demare, if you're interested in research regarding etheric phenomena, I suggest you visit the Inquisition archives and submit a formal request for information."
"Only to be denied," I snorted.
I rose from the table and began clearing the dishes, making it clear our guests had overstayed their welcome.
"Historically speaking, these anomalies appeared relatively recently. Something around the same time people began mass-producing power stones," Olivia mused aloud, undeterred. "Before concentration machines were invented, we couldn't manufacture them at scale. So I find the theory of artificial origins for etheric anomalies quite plausible."
I marveled at Olivia's sudden fluency in scientific terminology. This uncharacteristic eloquence was clearly meant to impress her fiancé.
"My job is to capture them and protect civilians from the dangers posed by etherics and heretics," Kiron shrugged, "not to speculate about the origins of anomalies."
"By the way, where do you take the captured etherics?"
"Particularly dangerous specimens are destroyed immediately. The more docile ones are sent to the tower for research." Kiron paused before adding, "Though I believe we should change the subject, as any further questions may fall outside my purview."
"Which makes it about as useful as submitting requests to the Inquisition's archives," I remarked dryly. "Well, friends, I've thoroughly enjoyed our time together, but I still have a mountain of tasks to tackle today. I'd like to actually accomplish something and avoid getting blown up on my way to the bank."
Olivia shot me a reproachful look, thoroughly disappointed by my lack of hospitality, but held her tongue as she rose to leave. While she bundled into her coat in the hallway, Kiron stepped closer and murmured:
"Miss Demare—"
"You can call me Anna," I interrupted.
"Anna, then. Be mindful of what you say and to whom."
"Is that advice or a threat, Officer?" I smirked.
"Both," he snorted.
"How thoughtful of you. Let's hope the raccoons in my backwoods don't gossip about my dreadful secrets."
Kiron gave another dry chuckle and followed Olivia out. I closed the door behind them, only allowing myself to exhale once the lock clicked. Their "friendly" visit left a bitter aftertaste of irritation. Checking my watch, I realized the notary was out of reach now, but the jeweler's might still be open. I grabbed my things and headed downtown. The weather had turned while I was inside: now, leaden clouds smothered the sky, shoved along by a biting wind. I tightened my coat and walked faster.
The city center had many streets closed to traffic, with patrols increased due to yesterday's explosion. I was stopped several times. They asked where I was headed and warned me to report anything suspicious to the nearest patrol. As I hurried toward the shop, sparse raindrops began falling on the pavement.
Inside, the shop was cool and unusually dark. Normally the entire hall would be brightly lit to make the precious stones and jewelry sparkle in all their facets, but today only two lamps burned by the counter where Master Blauberg–the jeweler–worked. He was busy with his work and didn't turn to me immediately, calling out instead:
"Just a moment!"
I greeted him and waited by the dark display cases so as not to disturb his work. When Master Blauberg finished, he set aside his tools and removed the magnifying lenses from his forehead.
"Good afternoon," he welcomed me cheerfully, coming out from behind the counter. "Apologies for the darkness. The Inquisition issued an order requiring all establishments to reduce customer numbers in coming days to minimize casualties in case of another heretic attack. So we have to keep the lights dim."
When he came closer, recognition dawned on his face:
"Ah, Miss Demare! Delighted to see you!" he exclaimed with genuine warmth.
Ganz Blauberg was a short, elderly man with a receding hairline carefully combed back. One couldn't find a more meticulous and precise craftsman in his field.
"How are you faring, Master Blauberg?"
"Keeping the wheels turning, as they say," he replied. "Lately folks seem to value exquisite craftsmanship less, opting instead for cheaper trinkets–a trend those scoundrels, the Kogan brothers, have been quick to exploit."
The Kogan brothers owned another jewelry workshop just around the corner from Blauberg's shop. They specialized in simple pieces that required minimal craftsmanship, which gave them an edge in production speed and allowed them to undercut prices. I'd known Ganz Blauberg for as long as I could remember. As a child, I'd been mesmerized by the glittering treasures displayed behind glass; as I grew older, I came to appreciate the old master's elegant craftsmanship. My mother had always bought her jewelry exclusively from him.
"How unfortunate to hear that. But I'm certain true connoisseurs will always seek you out."
"Oh, thank you, my dear," Blauberg chuckled, giving my shoulder an affectionate pat. "What brings you here today?"
I explained that I'd lost my bracelet with the power stone and needed a replacement. Blauberg sighed dramatically, lamenting what a fine piece it had been, then promised to find me something worthy. He disappeared into the back room and returned with a stack of small boxes.
We sorted through a dozen different bracelets, rings, and pendants. Eventually, I settled on a modest pendant. I tried it on immediately and tested the stone. When it emitted a dull glow in response to a light circle, Master Blauberg gave a satisfied nod and retreated behind the counter to finalize the purchase. We chatted a while longer about recent events before I wished him a good evening and stepped back out into the rain, which had grown heavier.
Now, at least, I could use my abilities without fear, wrapping myself in a water-repellent cocoon to stay dry on the way home. The streets were nearly deserted. There still were just a few hurrying figures seeking shelter as twilight fell. The low streetlamps flickered to life, their feeble glow no substitute for the welcoming brightness of shop windows now dark as gaping mouths. I ducked into the only grocery still open, grabbed some provisions, and hurried on. The rain intensified, fat drops smacking against the protective shield before streaming to the ground in wide rivulets.
At home, I lit the fireplace to drive out the dampness, prepared dinner, and settled into my dad's armchair with a plate, intending to warm myself by the fire and read one of the books gathering dust on the shelves. I pulled one out at random and placed it on the side table. The rain still drummed against the windows, isolating the house from the outside world. There was only the sound of raindrops, the crackling of firewood, the aroma of good food, and the anticipation of an interesting story.
I warmed my feet by the fireguard, leisurely eating bites of meat, bread, and vegetables, sipping tea, and flipping through the pages of an adventure novel about a journey to unknown lands on an unknown mission. Around the thirtieth page, I gave up trying to immerse myself in the story. My thoughts kept circling back to whether Kiron suspected I was a power-bearer. I closed the book, set it aside, cleared the dishes, and carried them to the sink.
While washing the plates, I was pondering how a blood ritual might feel to someone who had never experienced the true flow of power in their body. Could traces of another's energy linger? I could still sense the faint thread of energy draining me bit by bit. I knew this effect could last for days—it had happened when my mom taught me to heal rabbits caught in traps or cats mauled by wild dogs. My power sustained them until they fully recovered, then the thread thinned and snapped.
But neither cats nor rabbits could share their impressions, and the people subjected to such blood rituals were always power-bearers themselves. If there were cases involving non-bearers, no records existed, likely to avoid Inquisitor attention. I decided to comb through dad's notes, hoping for some mention of it.
The lit lamp revealed the same peaceful chaos reigning in the study. I surveyed it thoughtfully, running my fingers along the bookshelves, shifting a few folders on the side table. They contained notes and documents on dad's last project: improving power stone efficiency. Then I moved to the window. In such a cluttered space, finding anything without knowing the owner's system—if there was any—seemed impossible.
I pulled a plain brown-bound book from the shelf, it turned out to be a guide to medicinal herbs and mushrooms, and flipped through its pages, admiring the beautiful illustrations and refreshing my memory. The next book was an anatomy reference. One by one, I sifted through them, soon forgetting my original purpose as I lost myself in excerpts from various manuals and monographs, drifting into memories of childhood and youth.